


Perfect Imperfections

by cat_scratch_club



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlolly - Freeform, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:11:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_scratch_club/pseuds/cat_scratch_club
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper's just had a bad break-up. Hysterical, she turns to the world's least comforting person: Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Imperfections

Sherlock looked up from his microscope, surprised at the noise of someone knocking. Who could be calling so late at night? He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door. “Yes?”

Molly sniffed, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with tears. “C-can I come in?” she choked, her narrow shoulders shuddering as she bit her lip.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “I suppose so,” he nodded, moving from the doorway to allow her in. She gratefully stepped inside the threshold. “He broke up with you, yes?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly, studying her as she curled up on the couch. 

Her face crumpled. “How did you know?” she asked, her voice breaking as she bit back a sob. 

Sherlock furrowed his brow. “Oh...no, don't do that,” he begged, handing her a box of tissues. “Don't cry. Shh, you'll wake John,” he pleaded, sitting down next to her. Awkwardly, he wrapped an arm around her. That seemed to help- he had seen John do it on a few occasions when they were dealing with upset family members of victims- and Molly leaned into him. For a few moments Sherlock was still, not wanting to jostle her as her head rested on his chest.

“He...he said I was too timid, and I wasn't any...fun,” she cried, her voice muffled by his shirt. His arm, pinned beneath him, was beginning to hurt. He shifted uncomfortably. 

“Well, why did you come here?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Molly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She exhaled, pulling away. “I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I just...I don't know. I felt so alone...and...you're the first person I thought of.” She stood up, her face contorted into a mask of hurt.

He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “It's fine,” he said. “You can stay. I'm...It's nice that you thought of me.”

She looked surprised. “You don't mind? You don't think I'm...silly?”

He sighed and leaned back. “No, I don't. While I've never really understood why all of you get so upset about relationships ending, I do know what it's like when people don't like you.” He looked away. She sat back down, searching his face. Sherlock cleared his throat. “But, Molly?”

She tucked her legs up underneath her. “Yes?” 

He gazed at her, his clear blue eyes sparkling with emotion. “I know I don't always treat you so well. But know this; you are important. You can't let anyone tell you any differently. If you do, they'll eat away at your confidence until there's nothing left. You have to protect yourself.” His face was rigid, not revealing his emotions. 

Molly's lips formed a tight O. “Is that why you're so...” she trailed off.

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “So what?”

She sighed. “Never mind. Thank you, Sherlock. Really.”

He smiled slightly. Without a word, she leaned over again, resting her cheek on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, and this time it felt good there, like she belonged there. She let out a sigh, and he listened to her breaths slow. Before long, she was asleep. 

Sherlock glanced at his microscope, still sitting on the counter. He had been observing a unique and enthralling array of tobacco ashes before Molly arrived, but now they held no interest for him. His heart beat in his chest, and all he wanted to do was analyze the small noises she made and the way her auburn hair shone in the moonlight.

It could be said that Molly was not “fun”.

And Sherlock understood why Sebastian had called her timid.

But in that moment, as her fingers curled around Sherlock's, eyelids fluttering, face peaceful- all Sherlock saw was perfection.


End file.
